InsideOut
by Scarlet Ibis
Summary: Starts at the very beginning of “Wild At Heart,” but goes a bit differently. Spike gets to confront the Slayer, changing the course of events drastically.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Spike watched intently as Buffy goaded her prey.

"Thanks for the relocate. I perform better without an audience."

The best way to describe her was…flawless. She flowed as effortlessly as Shakespeare penned poetry.

"You're gonna get heartburn. Get it? Heartburn?" The vampire turned to dust, giving her no reaction. "That's it? That's all I get? One lame-ass vamp with no appreciation for my painstakingly thought-out puns. I don't think the forces of darkness are even trying. I mean, you could make a little effort here, you know? Give me something to work with."

"Watch your mouth, little girl. You should know better than to tempt the fates that way. 'Cause the big bad is back. And this time, it's...hang on. Grow a pair, Spike," he muttered to himself. "Oi! Slayer!" he called out, stomping down the hill.

Buffy stopped, looked up, and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Well,_ two_ lame ass vamps. Guess I can't complain now," she muttered. "Could've sworn I was rid of you, Spike," she said with irritation, watching him with her arms folded, hip cocked to the side, and gripping her stake as he approached her.

"Yeah? Well you guessed wrong. You stole my ring, bitch."

"Oh? The ring that _you stole_? I mean, grave robbing is still a crime, isn't it?"

"And to add insult to injury," he continued as if he weren't interrupted. "You just up and give it to that soul having wanker. Who destroyed it, by the way."

"He did?" Buffy asked, confusion written all over her face.

"Of course he did. Bloody tosser." Spike sighed as he stood before her, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He popped one into his mouth, and then took out his lighter, setting the ignited flame to the end of it. He inhaled, staring at her with open disdain.

"Some people just don't know how to have fun anymore."

"Oh, and you do?" Buffy asked, straightening to her full height. Spike's response was blowing a plume of heavy smoke into her face. Buffy's eyes grew, and then her face closed off.

"That's it, bleached boy. Enough chit chat."

And with that, Buffy threw an upper cut, throwing his head back and knocking the cancer stick right out of his mouth. Spike circled his jaw.

"Ow," he said dryly, touching his jaw.

"It's gonna hurt a lot more."

"Promises, promises," Spike responded before throwing a right hook.

They sparred for awhile, trading silent blows, though it was clear that neither was going for the kill. It was more of a "who's got the bigger stones?" kind of fight.

"Come on pet—give it to me good."

"Oh, I'll give it all right. Question is, can you ahh!" she screamed in pain, as electricity pulsed through her body. Spike frowned as she collapsed, seeing a masked man in army gear suddenly behind her.

"Uh, thanks mate. But really, I had her on the ropes, so—" Spike was stopped mid sentence as he too felt electricity pulse through his body from behind. His teeth involuntarily gnashed as he fell to the ground opposite Buffy.

The two warriors, immobilized, were dragged away side by side into the unknown…

**  
Chapter One**

"All right—keys. Where are my bloody keys?" Giles mumbled to himself as he frantically searched the top of his table. Then he paused, patted the left and right pockets of his jacket, and then pulled the keys out of the left one, rolling his eyes at himself.

"Right then."

Giles was late. Not that there was a time he had to be at the Bronze. Not that he was actually _invited _to go in the first place—he just happened to hear Buffy and Willow mention it, but still. He just knew that he had to not be home. And since he didn't have a job or adult friends, he didn't have much of an option. All he knew was that he had to get out before _she _arrived.

_It was all an honest mistake that got out of hand, really. So it had been twice, but I'm only a man. Besides, quickies didn't count, right?__  
_

_They do if you do them enough times._

Giles shook his head, trying to rid himself of those musings, and went to his door. Just as he unlocked and opened it, there she was, standing on the other side with her fist raised up.

"Oh. Hey. I was just about to knock." She stood there, smiling at him brightly.

"Yes, of course. Actually Anya, I was just on my way out," Giles said, attempting to sound regretful as he closed the door behind him. He just knew that if she somehow managed to get him back into his flat, that he would end up naked and horizontal. Or vertical. Either way, she'd be impaled upon him.

"Okay. Where are we going?" she asked, walking beside him.

Giles sighed, knowing that trying to escape her was pointless. Anya had been on him like white on rice, and he was beginning to think it wouldn't change anytime soon.

She had come to him a few weeks before—lonely and confused as to what her place was. Suddenly, she stopped her diatribe short, and turned to him.

_"You know, all of this uncertainty causes an awful lot of stress. Tension. I hear that sex is a great way to relieve such a thing."__  
_

_"What?"_  
_  
"I think you'll do. You're middle aged—"__  
_

_"I most certainly am not—"__  
_

_"And clearly experienced. I mean young guys are eager to start and quick to finish, which is entertaining for all of five minutes. Men your age are better at the finessing. I have to admit that the accent is a bit of a turn on as well."__  
_

_"Anya—"__  
_

_"So, what do ya say? Let's give this stress reliever a try. At the very least, it'll be fun!"_

And then she stripped off all of her clothes, pushed him onto the sofa, and straddled him.

_"Let's make our interlocking parts…interlock." _  
_  
_She kissed him, caressed him, and it was only seconds before he stopped resisting.

The second time was Halloween. After they had defeated the tiny monster, she followed him home. She explained that being scared and then helping to save the day worked up her sexual appetite, and it needed to be worked off immediately.

_"Anya, you're a lovely woman. Really. But you're much too young for—"__  
_

_"_Young_? Rupert, have you forgotten how we met? I'm over a thousand years older than you. I just haven't aged in eleven hundred years."__  
_

_"Oh. Right."_

He was duly placated, and gave into her advances once again. Which was probably a bad idea considering he wasn't interested in…well, he wasn't fully sure what it was that she wanted. Just intimate relations? An actual relationship? Either or, he was fully certain that he didn't want it.

"Uh, Rupert? Giles? Hello?"

"Oh, right. I'm heading to the Bronze actually."

She wrinkled her nose at that.

"Isn't that scene a bit…youthful for you?"

"Yes. Thank you, Anya for pointing that out."

"Oh, no need to be sore about it. Just thinking aloud. It's nice to go out," she said, holding onto his arm, walking closer to him. Giles sighed and gave in, removing her small hand from his bicep, and instead, wrapped his arm around her. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him.

*****

Buffy opened her eyes groggily, and saw nothing but white. She moaned, attempting to focus, and realized that she was face down on a cold, white floor. Slowly, she dragged herself upward to her hands and knees, and then sat back.

"Good to see you finally up and about."

She whipped her head behind her, and then hissed at giving herself a crook in her neck.

"What the hell is this Spike?" she asked, slowly turning to look at him. He was sitting against a stark white wall, staring at her blandly.

"Don't rightly know, do I? I was given a tase right after you, Slayer. Bloody G.I. Joes," he groused.

"G.I. Joes?"

"Some bastards in army gear with not only too much time on their hands, but plenty of funding."

She frowned at him, not sure what he meant, and he gestured with his hand for her to turn around. When she did, she lost her breath for a moment.

She stood up, and walked to the wall made of glass.

"Don't touch it pet—it's electric."

Buffy frowned, and looked left and right, seeing nothing but rooms just like theirs, with demons of all shapes and sizes locked inside.

"What is this place?" she whispered, leaning as close as possible without touching the glass. And then her eyes narrowed. She spun abruptly, back stiff.

"This is all your fault."

"_My_ fault?"

"They were probably after you."

"After_ me?_"

"Can you stop parroting my questions?"

Spike glared and stood up slowly.

"It seems to me that when it comes to demons, they have their fill. But _you_ sweetheart…Well, there isn't anyone out there quite like you, is there? A human imbued with the power of a demon? Now _that's_ something worth testing."

Buffy looked scared then, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked at him.

"I wager that it's because of _you,"_ he pointed at her. "That _I'm_ now stuck in this hell hole. Waiting for them to do god knows what to us." His steely gaze slowly began to crack as he saw her shrink into herself. He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Either way, at least we're not alone, yeah? The two of us will bust our way out in no time. No worries."

Buffy nodded her head, though she didn't look so sure. She shook her head, and gave him a look of sheer determination.

"I'm not worried. You're absolutely right, Spike. We've taken on bigger things then this before. So, we're locked in a box. We _will_ break it open."

Spike gave her a devilish grin. "That's right, pet. Looks like we're allies again. You know, till we get the hell out of here."

Buffy nodded, reaching out to shake his hand.. "Well, let's attempt to make this the shortest alliance ever."

Spike arched his scarred eyebrow, but nodded in agreement, shaking on it.

*****

"Well, Miss Summers and the vampire seem to be getting along quite well. There's an air of familiarity between them. And you said you found them fighting?"

"Yes, Professor. She had this inhuman strength. We've never seen anyone take on a vampire alone in hand to hand combat like that. It was quite extraordinary."

"Yes. But the question is…what _is_ she? She's clearly more than human…I'd like to explore that."

"Yes Professor," the team chorused.

"Also, I'd like to know the extent of their relationship. You did well tonight boys. This should be most interesting." The Professor smiled, truly excited about this latest experiment.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews feed the Muse. Please leave her some :D

* * *

"So much for that security blanket of familiarity, huh Will?" Xander commented as Anya and Giles approached their table.

"Oh. Giles. With Anya. Bronzing it. Nope, that's not weird and disturbing at all," Willow said with a raise of her eyebrows right before the pair made it over to them.

"Hello, everyone," Giles said with a slight smile, mildly embarrassed at the ex-demon on his arm.

"Yuh huh. I'm just finding it wiggy that not only are you here, you're here with—well, the ex demon who I went to prom with that one time," Xander said with a quirking of his lips.

"No need to be upset about that—old news. Besides, Giles has the maturity and sexual prowess that I–"

"Yes. Well," Giles cut in before Anya could finish. "Anyone want a latte or something? On me."

"I'd like a cold beverage. A beer." Anya looked up at him with a smile, to which he responded to in kind, with a blush as a bonus.

"Did Giles just give a girly blush?" Xander asked.

"Oh yeah. Definite blussage there," Oz commented.

"I'm waiting for a girlish giggle any second now," Willow added with a grin.

"Have any of you seen Buffy?" Giles asked, wanting to change the subject to not him.

Willow shrugged, glancing at Oz as his eyes suddenly became glued to the stage. "Probably still patrolling."

* * *

*~*~*~*~*

"Okay. Get on my shoulders."

"What?"

Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation before responding. "Look, if you get on my shoulders, you'll be tall enough to reach the ceiling. And once you're up there, you can test for weak spots—see if there's a way to climb the hell out of here."

"Oh. All right."

Spike kneeled down so that Buffy could get on easily. Once she was properly situated on his leather clad shoulders, he stood slowly. He tried to look up to see what she was doing, purposely ignoring her warmth that was seeping into the back of his neck, and the softness of her behind his head.

"Any luck?" he asked.

"Move left. A bit more…There we go."

Spike slightly startled at the hollow sound of the first hollow bang Buffy made with her fists against the metal ceiling. As her pounding continued, he kept a wary eye out at the glass wall of their cell. The demons across from him stood close to their own glass walls, watching with eager curiosity.

Though Buffy's knuckles were becoming raw, she kept beating on the panel, hope burgeoning as it started to give.

"Spike—hold me steady." She tried to ignore the slight flush she felt when Spike's hands moved from the front of her legs to the tops of her thighs, his fingers gripping their insides. She faltered in her rhythmic banging.

"It's innocent. Just move the bloody panel."

Though the sharpness of the metal panel cut her fingers, she grit her teeth, pulling it downward. She sighed with relief when it fell out, clattering to the floor.

"Success," she said, looking up the darkened tunnel that was now exposed.

"What's it look like up there?" Spike asked, tilting his head upward again.

Buffy frowned as she felt the walls.

"Not good. It's all…smooth. Nothing to grip. Not to mention narrow."

"Look, I'll take anything right now, as long as we can—"

"Oh. Spike, get me down."

"What? What's wrong?" he questioned, kneeling down all the while. Once she was clear, he stood up, looking at her. "What?" he asked again, looking at a now worried Buffy.

"Look," she said softly, slowly backing up. A heavy, white smoke was slowly coming out of the gap where the panel used to be. It wouldn't be long before it filled their small cell.

"Oh…balls. Slayer, go to the other side of the room, and lay down on the ground. Got it?" She nodded, doing as he told her.

"What will you do?" she asked, watching him as she lay on her stomach.

Spike shifted to game face, picking up the jagged, metal panel. He stood at the door, waiting to pounce on whoever came through. Then he cocked his head, thinking, and then headed over by Buffy, lying down on his stomach next to her.

"My guess is," he whispered, "that they don't know who they're dealing with. Chances are, they're waiting for us to be knocked unconscious from this gas, yeah? Lucky for us, I don't have to breathe. Soon as they come through that door…" he trailed off, body tense in anticipation. Buffy's breaths became shallow as the smoke neared.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"You won't leave me behind, will you?"

Spike turned his head to look at her.

"We're busting out together, right? And when we do, I'm thinking you owe me however I see fit. And hey, if anyone takes you out, it bloody well's gonna be me, Summers."

"Is it weird that I find that comforting?" Spike smirked at that.

Buffy sighed, reassured. And though she tried to keep eye contact with him, her eyes simply couldn't manage.

"Bugger," Spike muttered, shutting his eyes once Buffy passed out. He laid his head down, ear to the ground, listening.

Waiting.

And then he heard it—the swoosh noise of the door being opened. At the sound of the first footfall into their cell, Spike leapt up onto his feet, rushing to the door. He threw the metal piece of ceiling like a boomerang, catching one of the soldiers in the neck. Spike smiled at the blood. But the other men in fatigues and gas masks were at the ready, blasting Spike with an electrical current. Spike growled, intermingled with a groan as he collapsed to the floor mid step.

An older woman in a white lab coat came in then, staring above him with a smile on her face.

"We've got plans for you."

It was then that he felt the sharp point of a needle pierce the flesh of his neck. It took only seconds for black to dance around his vision, before obliterating it completely.

* * *

*~*~*~*~*

Xander swung the door open to Giles' flat with his head down, looking down at the pink box of donuts he was attempting to balance in his free hand.

"Giles? It's time to get into research—"

He paused at the sight in front of him—Anya, in nothing but an over sized button down, was straddling Giles, who was dressed in a robe, his hands resting on her hips.

"Oh god," Xander muttered, backing out of the door.

"No, it's all right. It's not what you think," Giles said quickly, lifting Anya up, moving her over. Xander paused at that, but kept his head down.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Now, if you'd walked in twenty minutes ago—"

"So, Xander. What brings you here this morning?" Giles asked lightly, standing up. Anya rolled her eyes behind him.

"It's afternoon, actually. Early afternoon, but still," Xander said, hesitantly entering the apartment again. Keeping his eyes firmly away from the couch, he headed to the counter, placing the box of pastries there. "There's trouble. With a capital T, which rhymes with Z, which…um, is the second letter in Oz's name."

"Oz?"

"Yeah. Got a call from Willow. Apparently, he skipped town with a nice were-woman, who was also in a band like him. Seems they had a lot in common, and decided to make a go of it. Okay, not exactly, but I got the Cliff's Notes version."

"Oh dear…And Willow?"

"Actually, that 'T' also rhymes with B—"

"Xander, please get to the point," Giles admonished, opening the box, picking up a jelly filled doughnut.

"Buffy, Giles." Giles' head snapped up at that. "Willow, with all of her Oz drama, kind of hadn't noticed that Buffy's been missing the past few days."

"What? Missing? Are you sure?"

"Will says her bed's been made, and she hasn't been to class…things have just been so hectic with Willow, she hasn't had time to really think. I mean, have you talked to Buff?"

"No, but I haven't been looking for her either. Have you talked to Joyce?"

"Yeah—she hasn't heard much from Buffy since the first week of school. But the people who should be seeing her regularly? Will and their teachers? Haven't seen her. So, I got some donuts and popped on over here for research or…something."

"I see," Giles said softly. "And Willow?"

"She's…licking her wounds right now, but she'll be over soon. Or so she said." Xander's eyes inadvertently darted over toward Anya, who was now standing up, watching the two of them, coltish legs exposed…

"But yeah—this is serious business. She should really be here. Now. I think I'll go get her."

"Is that really necessary? I can just call—"

As Giles looked down to pick up his phone, he heard his front door slam shut.

"I make him uncomfortable," Anya said. Giles sighed, dialing the dorm number.

"_We_ make him uncomfortable." He frowned as the phone continued to ring with no answer. He put the phone back in its cradle, and then looked up at her. He gave her a smile, walked over to her, and then pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her eyes as he stared down at her.

"But I suppose he'll just have to get used to the idea. After all, I did."

* * *

*~*~*~*~*

"Can you believe it?" Riley asked, voice low as he watched the civilians milling about The Espresso Pump and on the street with a wary eye. "If vampires weren't bad enough, being able to blend in with humans, now we have day walking…demon things like Summers. I mean, who knows who else—_what_ else—is out there? Walking around like they're normal like us…"

"Sure, she's a freak of nature. But maybe she's a protector of some kind? I mean, she was fighting the vampire at first," Forrest thought aloud.

"Come on—someone with inhuman strength like that, conspiring with other hostiles? Nah, I hate to say it, but…"

"Well, her mother's medical records came back clean. Hers too—this super strength thing must have been something that happened to her later on in life."

"And her friends?" Riley asked, furtively looking around. Forrest smiled at him.

"Dude, calm down. And friends? The only one that we know of is her roommate—Rosen…" Forrest trailed off as he spotted the red head walking down the sidewalk, heading towards the Pump. She scrubbed at her face as she turned abruptly, heading for the curb. She wasn't paying attention to anything around her.

"Hey!" Forrest called out to her, getting up from his seat as he headed out the doorway towards her. Willow kept moving, still wiping her face, seemingly not have heard him. Forrest dashed after her as she started walking in the parking lane of the street, not paying attention to traffic. Just as a car blared its horn, screeching on brakes, Forrest yanked her back towards the curb by the hem of her shirt. Willow collapsed against him with a sob.

"Uh, Willow, right?" he asked, turning her around, and then held her gently by her shoulders. She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

"You really have to pay attention when crossing the street. Look both ways?" Willow looked down, not answering him. "Is there some place I can take you? You know, until you um…feel better. I'm thinking you shouldn't be alone right now. At least where there are large, deadly vehicles around, what with you being Ms. Unobservant at the moment."

Willow nodded. "Yeah. I was…I need to get a friend's place."

Forrest put his hand gently on her back, allowing her to lead the way. He looked over his shoulder, and got a slight nod from Riley.

Reconnaissance had never been so easy.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to Unbridled Brunette for the beta work. Added a bit without her help, and any mistakes are mine.

And wow--it's only been...seven months since an update. I think they're going to be a bit more regular now :)

* * *

_Chapter Three_

"So Rosenberg—what's been up with you? Why so down?" Forrest asked conversationally as they walked to Giles' place. Well, not Giles' place exactly. Willow planned on shooing him away about a block before actually getting there. "You were majorly distracted back there."

"My boyfriend left me….He, um, he was an alcoholic. Kind of."

"Only 'kind of' huh? Was he abusive?"

Willow shook her head vehemently. "God, no. He…he recognized he had a problem, and--, and tried his best to stay on the wagon, right? But then this uber skank of a girl that he met was a mega alcoholic. They ran in the same circles and…I guess he saw his reflection in her or something. How it could be for him if he didn't get proper help.? And he had a drink—Mega Skank coerced him. So, he decided that…he didn't think he should be with me anymore, and that he was going to rehab. He took Mega Skank with him."

"Mega alcoholic, you mean?"

"Whatever. Anyway, I don't know where or when or…_if_ he'll ever be back…" she finished quietly.

Forrest shrugged, looking downward. "Sounds noble, if not a bit misguided. Sometimes, you can't save the world; you can only save yourself. But that isn't to say you shouldn't try. Still, he should have told you where he was going. Question though, and you don't have to answer, but…did he sleep with her?"

Willow stopped walking, hugging herself. She looked away.

"I don't…maybe. Probably."

"Hey—don't stress yourself. You're smart and you're pretty. Guys should be worrying over you and chasing _you_."

Willow scoffed at that. "Not in this reality. Easier said than done."

They continued to walk in silence for a bit, Forrest with a frown on his face all the while.

"That guy sounds kind of clueless, if not a dumbass, if you don't mind me saying."

Willow smiled up at him.

"Thanks. Really. Um, anyway, this is me."

"See you around campus?"

"Yeah. See ya."

Forrest nodded at her before turning to leave. Willow watched him for a moment before heading in the opposite direction.  


* * *

Xander gave two quick knocks before opening the door to dorm 214.

"Buffy? Will?" he called out as he closed the door behind him. Buffy's bed was still made, whereas Willow's had that slept in look. He sighed, looking around the room for any kind of indication as to where Buffy had gone.

He found a big, fat nothing.

He gave one last look at the room as he turned out the lights.

Xander closed the door gently, hoping that wherever Buffy was, that she was okay.  


* * *

  
"Bloody…" Spike, eyes closed, winced in pain as he turned over onto his side. He suspected that at least two of his ribs had been broken. He lay still, trying to remember the last…

He grit his teeth, fury rising within him. His eyes popped open as his face easily slipped into its vampiric visage. Ignoring the pain in his torso, he slowly got to his feet. It was then that he noticed the huddled mass in the corner. It was the Slayer, naked legs drawn up, bare arms wrapped around them, and head down as she sobbed quietly.

"Slayer?"

The crying abruptly stopped, but she continued to sit, still as stone.

"Took your skivvies, did they?" he asked conversationally, as he walked the short distance to her corner of the room. Buffy, her eyes watery and bloodshot, looked up at him sharply.

Spike then noticed that a good chunk of her hair had been cut. He sighed as he came out of game face, shrugged his duster off, and then tossed it on her head.

"There. Put it on quick—we've got planning to do," he said as he turned around. He heard rustling behind him, intermingled with sniffles.

"It's…it's too big. I'm still…" _Exposed._

Spike rolled his eyes, taking off his red shirt.

"The tee shirt? Please. It's less—"

"See through? Yeah. I know."

He tossed the red shirt onto the floor, and winced as he began to pull the black tee over his head. He tossed it her way before picking up the red one again, putting it back on.

"Than—thank you," he heard her say quietly. He turned around and looked at her—she'd put the shirt on, which covered her chest, and buttoned his coat to cover the rest. Her brow crinkled as she saw the bruises on his torso.

"What'd they do to you?" she nearly whispered.

Spike shrugged, buttoning up his shirt.

"Nothing that beat what they did to you, I reckon."

"Me? They…" Her face crumpled, and she held her face in her hands.

Spike clenched his jaw at that.

"Look—"

He paused, gripping her shoulders, making her look up at him. "This is _nothing_. Life is pain—you just get used to it." Buffy, face now hard, knocked his hands off her shoulders. Spike smirked.

"_There's_ my girl. Now you listen to me—you hang on to that anger, Summers. Let it flow through you. Feel it in your bones, you know what I'm saying?"

Her hard expression faltered, and she looked away.

"I…They're—"

"What? _Human_?" Spike scoffed. "They aren't humans, love—they're the monsters that _violated_ you. Made you weak. _Helpless_."

Buffy's head rose slowly.

"What will we do?"

"Well—" Spike paused, rolling his shoulders. "I'm gonna pick a fight with you, and you're gonna let me win."

With that, Spike backhanded her across the face, knocking her against the wall. Still, it wasn't as hard as he could have made it.

He told himself it was because his ribs still hurt like hell.

He roared, shifting back into game face. Spike grabbed her, and then flung her toward the glass panel. She cried out when the electricity coursed through her, falling back to the floor. He walked over, picked her up from behind, pulled her head sideways, and licked her neck slowly before sinking his fangs in.

Buffy gasped, pulling feebly at his hands—one on her abdomen, and one at her breast. She sucked in a breath as he took in a slight pull of blood. Spike took his fangs out of her throat, giving a bloody smile as three soldiers came to their cell door.

"Time to finish this."

Spike emitted a low growl of warning, using Buffy as a shield. Buffy head-butted him, before collapsing helplessly to the floor, holding her neck. That was when the first man used his taser gun. Spike screamed as the currents flowed through his body, before collapsing to the floor behind Buffy. The three soldiers stepped over her.

Spike was their main threat.

As soon as they had their backs to her, Buffy was up. She kicked the one closest to her in the back, knocking him into the wall. He was out cold. The other turned on her, attempting to strike with the butt of his gun, and she grabbed him, flipping him over onto the ground. She leg swept the third, and then punched the one she flipped on the ground in the face, knocking him out. The third was up fairly quickly, turning his gun on her again. A flash of panic surged her adrenaline, making her lash out without thinking.

"No!" she said harshly through clenched teeth, punching him hard in the nose. The soldier stilled, his eyes rolling upward as blood flowed from his nostrils. He dropped to his knees, before falling over onto his side. Buffy's eyes widened, as she stood there, frozen.

"Is…is he…"

Spike slowly got up, a smile on his face.

"Good going, Slayer." He paused at the door, turning back. Buffy was hovering over the dead soldier. Spike rolled his eyes, stalking over to her. He grabbed her arm, yanking her toward the door.

"Come on pigeon—time to fly."

Buffy yanked her hand away, so Spike grabbed her by the sleeve of his duster. He got three yards before stopping abruptly, and turning to shake her.

"Do you want out or not?"

Buffy nodded slowly, and forced her legs to cooperate with her. In fact, once she pulled herself together, she passed Spike as they ran down the hallway, past all of the other cells.  
The wall that led to their exit was starting to come down.

"Slayer!"

Buffy faltered in her run, and turned and looked at him. He wasn't going to make it.

She ran over to him, grabbed him, and slid him across the floor underneath the slowly closing wall. Then she ran, sliding right behind him on her belly. She got up just as the wall came down completely, and Spike took her hand, starting to run again.

They were going to make it.


End file.
